The Voice of Familiarity
by KittyKatThePsycho
Summary: It was a voice, an annoying and urgent one, that told him not to disappear immediately.


A/N: A one-shot set after Captain America: The Winter Soldier. A little bit fluffy.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel.

 **The Voice of Familiarity**

He had been to the museum, he had seen the exhibition and he had discovered a truth that felt stranger than fiction. It had been hard to believe that he, a mere weapon, had once been a normal young man with dreams, morals and friends. There had been a glass memorial dedicated to the young man he had once been and yet, despite their faces being the same, he felt that they could not have been more different. Who even named their son James Buchanan? He now understood why the blond man had called him "Bucky", even though he had initally thought of it as a strange name for a person. And while Bucky Barnes had been a kind hearted soldier who had died for his friend during the war, the Winter Soldier had tried to kill that very friend.

He no longer served HYDRA, but what difference did it truly make? Would anyone truly care that he had been brainwashed so severely that pain felt more of a routine to him than a feeling? His eyes darkened as he stared at the metallic appendage attached to his body that was now covered by the sleeve of a jacket. He could, although not completely lucid at the time, remember the horrid image of the saw blade as it had sliced through the dead flesh of his lower arm until one of the doctors had mentioned that it would be useless to try and save the rest of his limb.

" _It would be easier to replace the entire thing. Remove the rest of his arm."_

A cold shiver ran down his spine as he stared at the gray building towering in front of him. It was a hospital and for a brief moment he wished he had merely disappeared. However, he knew that if he had to do so, that annoying voice at the back of his mind would never be silent. While it did not speak vocally (he was grateful for that), it sent waves of unfamiliar emotions echoing through the recesses of his mind until it felt as if his ears were zinging. It irritated him, it was nothing like him- it was filled with emotion and morality. It was human.

Blue eyes flickered from side to side in apprehension as he walked through the doors of the hospital and stared at a board that indicated the different floors of the hospital. He bit his lower lip. Would the blond man be in ICU? Would he be in a general ward? There was no doubt in his mind that the man would be protected by armed security -he was a famous hero, after all- and the last thing he wanted to do was risk getting captured. It was a terrible idea, but as he turned around to exit the building, that voice protested. It caused his chest to twist uncomfortably and he sighed.

Five minutes and no more, he thought to himself. The voice seemed happy with his response and it ebbed away as he walked to the elevator.

It had not been difficult to find the room in which the blond man was placed as there were, as he had expected, heavily armed security guards standing at the door. His brows furrowed together in annoyance as he tried to think of a way to get into the room without alerting them. He pulled the baseball cap down which caused his face to become slightly obscured from the view of people and any cameras that may have been placed nearby.

He looked around thoughtfully and his eyes lit up slightly as he saw a few people exiting the room that was adjacent to the blond man's room. He silently wondered if the man had his own room due to his heroic status or due to medical necessity. A part of him hoped it was the former, a part of him figured that it was the latter. He walked into the room swiftly, brushing past the large group of people that exited, and the nurses did not notice him. He patted his side, softly, and smiled thinly as the small lump hidden within his jacket greeted his hand.

Slowly, so as not to wake any of the six patients in the room that all seemed to be asleep, he slid open the window and climbed out onto the ledge. He moved, cautiously, to the side until he was in front of another window and he glanced inside. It was empty. Luckily, the window had been left slightly open and he merely slid his fingers inside and slid it aside to open it further. He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped down into the room and he patted his side again.

The blond was asleep, his breathing steady and calm. The dark haired man swallowed hard as he saw the bruises marring perfect porcelein skin, the scar below a pink mouth, the thick fabric of bandages visible underneath the nearly transparent material of the hospital nightgown. All those injuries, they were his fault.

The blond had been bleeding from his abdomen, his face had been bruised and swollen from repetitive blows but all he had cared about was him. He had merely wanted the dark haired man to remember that he cared, that he was his friend. He had risked his life to let him know that he cared, that he would always care.

" _'Cos I'm with you till the end of the line."_

Guilt flooded his body and he felt dizzy, but he maintained his composure long enough to make his way to the chair beside the bed. Light blue eyes scanned the sleeping form of the man and watched intently as the man stirred slightly. His mouth moved, hoarse words laced in despair and desperation spilling into the air.

"Don't go..."

Who was he speaking to, he wondered and he removed the lump from within his jacket. It was a teddy bear wearing a dark blue jacket with what appeared to be winged symbols on the sleeves. At the bottom of the toy's foot stood "Srgt. Bucky Bear Barnes" in blue and red cotton. He placed the teddy bear against the man's side, tucking him in more securely with one hand and using his other hand to brush a few stray strands of blond hair from his face. His hand was suddenly caught in an iron grip and dark blue eyes snapped open.

Only one word left the man's mouth. "Bucky?"

Bucky was unsure how to respond, so he merely shook free from the man's grip and backed away slightly.

"It's really you..." Steve said, his voice filled with emotion as he stared at the dark haired man warmly.

The voice urged him to say something in response and he breathed out heavily. "Yeah, it is."

"Do you... Do you remember me?" Steve asked, the hopefulness and desperation evident within the tone of his voice.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably and stared at the ground. " A bit. I mean, I went to the museum. You, uh, you were really small before the procedure."

Steve managed to chuckle softly. "Yeah, you used to hover around me like a mother back then. Always fishing me out of alley brawls and patching me up afterwards..." He suddenly became aware of the teddy bear tucked snuggly against his side. He picked it up and examined it carefully.

"Did you...?"

"Yeah, they were selling them at the museum for two dollars. I thought, maybe, you'd need some...comfort while you were recovering so I... It was a stupid idea, you're a grown man, you don't need-"

"I love it!" Steve exclaimed, suddenly, as he hugged the teddy bear with a look of pure elation etched across his face. He looked like a child who had been given the toy they had always wanted. "I always wanted one... But, I thought it would be a bit weird... And whenever I saw one of these teddy bears, it made me miss you more. Sorry, I know how odd that sounds..."

Bucky flushed and smiled thinly. "It's okay. I'm glad you like it."

"You came to say goodbye, didn't you?" Steve's face was suddenly calm and serious. He no longer looked like Steve, no, he looked like Captain America.

"I have to disappear. The world wants me dead and no matter what I say, or anyone says, my crimes against humanity still remain. If I remain here, if I am found, I will either be imprisoned for the rest of my life or I will be executed." The dark haired man folded his arms over his chest.

"They'd have to show some leniency, Bucky. You were constantly being tortured and brainwashed. None of your actions were of your own free will."

"That hardly matters, now does it? It does not change the fact that I killed many people, that I instigated wars and maintained conflicts and caused all other sorts of harm. I'm a criminal." Bucky's face contorted into a slight sneer and his demeanor suddenly seemed colder. "The only reason that you're defending me is because I was your best friend."

"Firstly, you still are my best friend." Steve glared at the ex-assassin. "And secondly, that is not the only reason. Even if I did not know you personally, but I knew you were merely being used as a weapon against your will, I would still defend you and you know that, Bucky."

The annoying voice agreed with Steve, but he turned towards the window. "Thank you for not killing me when you had the chance, Steve. And thank you for believing that I am not merely a heartless tool... It may not seem like it, but it makes me feel less of a monster to know that you still consider me as your best friend- even if I do not deserve the sentiment."

The dark haired man was suddenly thrown into the chair and he looked up in amazement as he saw that Steve had, somehow, managed to get up quickly and was staring at him with eyes filled with both irritation and sadness. "Enough."

"Enough of what, Steve?"

"Enough of all that bullshit you're spitting out." The blond man growled and while he did manage to look intimidating, Bucky could see that he was trembling slightly and was barely able to stand.

Bucky cocked his head to the side and raised a brow. "Since when does Captain America swear?"

"I'm serious, Bucky. Enough. Yes, you killed people and no, nothing will change it. But... I've killed people, too. After you fell, I...I was so damn angry." Steve frowned, his hands shaking as they curled into the fabric of Bucky's jacket. "I did terrible things. There were actually HYDRA agents who surrendered and after I managed to get information out of them, I shot them while they begged me not to. I didn't care. I just hated them so damn much. It may have been war, I may have lost my best friend but I murdered defenseless people in cold blood and it was all out of my own free will."

Bucky's eyes were slightly wide in surprise. He could not, even with the gaps in his memory, imagine Steve killing anyone unless he really had to.

"You're lying."

"I'm not. People have their own perspective on other people. A lot of people see me as this righteous hero who can do no wrong, but I'm just as flawed and disgusting as the villains I stop. The only difference is that I take no pride in the dirty work I do and when I do those things I try to do it for the greater good." Steve laughed, but it sounded like a hollow sound emerging from his chest. "At least that's what I tell myself."

"You're not flawed and disgusting. You're nothing like those villains, either. You're human."

"And so are you, Bucky." Steve smiled. "You pulled me from the river. You came here to say goodbye even though you're scared and you got me a present even though you barely remember me. Just like I'm not the squeaky clean hero people see me as, you are not the villain that you and so many think you are."

Bucky watched as Steve sat down on the bed, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in pain. He helped Steve to lay down and he smirked. "You know if this whole Captain America thing doesn't work out you should consider motivational speaking."

"Shut up." Steve huffed, but he was smiling.

"Thank you, Steve." Bucky placed his hand, hesitantly, on the man's shoulder. "I'm still going to disappear, but don't worry- I won't be far and I'll make sure to contact you soon. Just promise me that you won't do anything stupid, like jump out of planes without parachutes, until I see you again, okay?"

How did he know about that? "How can I do anything stupid? You're taking all the stupid with you." Steve smirked, his heart fluttering with familiarity.

"You're a real little punk, you know that?"

"You're a real jerk." Steve reached up and hugged his friend, whose body stiffened and then relaxed. "Be careful, Bucky."

"Yeah, you too. Get some rest. We'll see each other again."

As Bucky began to climb out of the window, Steve called out to him as he held the teddy bear close. "Till the end of the line, right?"

Bucky smiled and the voice seemed to speak for him. "Till the end of the line."

And just as quickly as he had arrived, Bucky Barnes vanished into the night. Steve was not concerned, though, as he cuddled with the teddy bear. They would see each other again and whether Bucky regained all his memories or not was not a concern to him either. Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, James- they were all one person. His best friend. And nothing, and no one, would ever change that.


End file.
